


Regret

by orphan_account



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23108245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Michelangelo spends time alone, harder than it sounds in a house full of brothers.
Kudos: 24





	Regret

Michelangelo snuggles back into his pillow. It smells like him, and like home, which would be better if they didn’t live in a sewer. He’s alone, and everyone else is still in the living room, watching a hockey game. Normally he’d have hung out, stolen some popcorn but instead he’d snuck away, ignoring the open-ended offer and heading for his room, his tail swollen with excitement.

He isn’t sure why he wants to cum now, he just  _ does _ . He pulls his blanket around him, swaddling himself until he’s drowning in soft fabric, his shell reclining at a gentle angle. He’s too ready for it to even hesitate really. His hands start to wander, and it feels  _ so good _ .

Fun. Kinda tickly, but in that way that makes his legs part slowly, his hands straying lower until he’s stroking the tender insides of his thighs, and the slit on his tail is spreading, swollen and wet.

Jeez. Mikey feels embarrassed at his own eagerness, even alone in his room, pale green fingers pressing his slit open wider, to let his stiff head protrude from his tail, curving to stand between his legs, sticky and so, so hard.

It was training, again. He knew it was- knew he should have done what he normally did, and taken a brisk cold shower right after, and stayed away from himself. Better to- to just  _ not _ , rather than keep doing whatever this is.

He makes himself wait for a second, makes himself behave. Leo always, always made him bow before they spar and Mikey always fights it, so that Leo’s hands will find his neck and squeeze. Force his head down, one-armed. Swords, man. His hands tense on his own thighs, and Mikey imagines his brother doing the same... his cock jumps.

Training has been making him so... weird lately. It used to just make him hyper and kinda bored at the same time. It still does that on days when training means Master Splinter telling them embarrassing stories of themselves from before they can remember. But the rest of the time...

The rest of the time they’re fighting. Hands from all sides, slapping at his shell, his legs, shoulders knocking into him. The constant thrill of avoidance before capture or punishment, which depending on what brother he pairs with and how much Master S is paying attention.

Today, he’d sparred Donnie, nothing but the distant  _ tap _ - _ tap _ \-  _ tap _ of his bowstaff thwacking irritatingly on Mikey’s shell. Keeping him close enough to get hits in, but too far away to touch. An hour of it, and Mikey was bored out of his mind. Leo thinks he’s scattered, disorganized, but really it’s more that sometimes Mikey just can’t make himself care.

He’d rather leave himself a little open, wait for Donnie to get overconfident, and trip him up, knocking Mikey to the ground, himself on top.

Mikey’s fingers trace up the underside of his cock, softly, the wet covering them making his touch so sensitive. It’s almost too much when he finally palms himself, almost too real. Makes him wish it was somebody else’s hand, that way instead of just feeling sensitive, the roughness of sudden touch would carry with it that weird sense of excitement he gets at just the  _ thought _ of it being someone else.

Not… not just anybody else.

One hand still softly petting his own shiny cock, Mikey raises his other, and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth.  _ Groans _ . Only turtles have two fingers, which means if Raph ever finally shuts Mikey up how he wished he would, it might feel just like this. Bigger, he imagines, Raph’s rough, dark hands spreading his mouth wide, filling him up, getting his fingers all wet so he could fill his brother up somewhere else too.

Mikey groans around his own fingers again at the thought, and pulls them free with a pop. He wants it, and his fingers are quickly circling his hole, rubbing his hasty spit into the rim of his asshole, stretching himself- rough and quick like he wants to so badly, rougher, quicker, how he’s sure Raph would do it, always so impatient. Even for his brothers ass.

One thick finger slips inside, and Mikey hisses. He’s hot inside, and the stretch feels so good. His body wants this so badly after all the constant physical attention of training- after his body had already been worked out, smacked around. He cants his hips, pressing his shoulders back into the bed and it’s those same dark, two-fingered hands pushing his thighs open, wider instead. Baring him for a hot green gaze-

Mikey bites his lip. Already he’s welling with guilt. He’d said he wasn’t going to think about it anymore- about them. It isn’t the only thing that gets him hard- he isn’t some weirdo- he just-

He slides his finger back out of his ass, gently, but the feeling still makes the tip of his tail twitch. A good brother would have been able to focus on his training, even when Raph had him pinned to the floor, and was squatting over him, slapping at the backs of his thighs- telling Donnie to come look at their baby bro- until Mikey had tears in the corners of his eyes, and Master Splinter was pissed.

Pissed, but just thinks Mikey is a crybaby. Which is still better than knowing his actual problem. Than to know that all he really wanted was for Raph to slap his thighs harder, until they stung, and Mikey was whimpering and begging. Until he’s crying and Raph’s sliding his hand over the curve of Mikey’s ass, just like Mikey’s doing now.

His other hand pulls steadily at his cock, while he plunges two fingers into himself, a lump building in his throat, like his body wants him to cry from the pleasure. He catches the whine before it can pour from his beak, flopping his head sideways into his pillow to silence himself.

His cock dribbles wetly between his fingers as he pumps, his body squeezing his own fingers tightly inside the wet heat of his own body. He’s close- god, so close-

“Mikey? You even in there?”

His hand leaps off his cock, even while his ass clenches more tightly around his wet fingers. He speaks up quick, before Leo can try for the door.

“Yeah, I’m in here. I just-”

“The movies about to start. You coming?”

“Maybe in a little bit!” Mikey calls, and he’d promised himself- said he wouldn’t, but his cock is so wet, so hot, so needy that his hand routes itself back to his lap as though led there. “I just want to finish-”

“Oh, you’re drawing again?” Leo asks, and he sounds so surprised. So pleased. Mikey bites his lip guiltily, and squeezes around the flared head of his cock, so wet and fucking good like he’d needed all day. “That’s amazing. You gotta show it to me- when you’re done, or whatever, of course. Okay, well-”

“Wait.” Mikey says. Close, close, close. “Um, what are you guys watching?”

“Uh, I think Raph’s picking… I have no idea. Don. Hey, Don! What are we watching, again?”

“Fuck.” Mikey whispers, and cums hot stripes across his shell, his hand, his tail twitching, his ass tight around his fingers.

“Rambo? Rambo, Mike. Raph picked.” Leo says through the door. “You hear me?”

“Yeah.” Mikey answers, trying not to pant, and he tries to tell himself that it isn’t hurting anyone- Leo had no idea- he isn’t hurting anyone but himself, really. “Yeah, I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Okay.” Leo says, giving in easily to the dismissal in Mikey’s tone. Still, Mikey waits for his footsteps padding away, and instead Leo stands there for a second. Just for a second, before stepping away back to the living room.

Wishes he was actually okay.


End file.
